Kairos
by knetterzak
Summary: In two weeks I will be taking my final exams. I wil take revenge on all those who trampled me underneath the soles of their feet and humiliated me over the course of these past five years. I may forgive, but I don't forget. Those unfortunate enough to make it onto my shit list will pay. One way or an other.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I often wondered what my legacy would be to this world. Perhaps it shall lie in this book. Writing a book seems like such an unobtainable goal, though. Try I shall nonetheless, surfing the tides of creativity on a sea of imagination. I can only hope is shall bring me to the desired shore of success.

* * *

><p>In two weeks I will be taking my final exams. After that I am no longer caged by the education system. At least, not for a while. There is no rest for the wicked I guess. After high school it's on to an other study to obtain a piece of paper that will tell me I am qualified to program something in Java among other things. Tedious, all of it, but unfortunately necessary if you want to make a difference in this society. No longer is it possible to get hired for the simplest of jobs without a certificate, if you get hired at all. But I digress.<p>

Letting go of things is more often than not quite hard to do, even if those things involve unpleasant memories. Without them I would not be the person I am today. After all, hardship has a way of forcing a different perspective onto people. It allows you to see things in a different light, or better said with less contrast and more shades of gray. That there is always a different side to a story and there is no harsh line separating good from evil. That is how life teaches people to grow up I presume, but that could just be me.

In two weeks the pages will be bleached a brilliant white. The page will be turned and a new chapter of my life will begin. However, I have different plans. I will stain these pages a passionate red with revenge. Revenge on all those who trampled me underneath the soles of their feet and humiliated me over the course of these past five years. I may forgive, but I don't forget. To do this I composed a list of names. It could be referred to as a hit list although no murder shall be involved. I will make those unfortunate enough to make it onto my shit list pay. One way or an other.


	2. Chapter One - Mr Physics

**Chapter one; Mr Physics**

A blurred frame of a girl passes the hallway in a hurried fashion shortly followed by a slightly bigger blur. As Fitz is running, she's talking with someone over her phone. Her physics teacher is a short distance behind her, chasing her. He's covered in water and his face is an unhealthy shade of tomato red. She has never seen a man as furious as this particular specimen.

'Is it ready yet?' She speaks into the mobile device. On the other side of the conversation is a young man in a most peculiar setting. He is pumping a rubber boat full of air with a tiny black amateur pump at the shore of a canal. While he is pumping he speaks into his own phone which is squeezed into an awkward position between his shoulder and head. 'Almost!' , followed by a thud and some static as the mobile device slips from his grasp.

Fitz hears some cursing on the other side and ends the call. She can only hope that her accomplice will finish the job in time if they both want to escape unscathed. She turns a corner and places her back flat against the wall catching her breath a little. Strange enough the physics teacher didn't run past her like she anticipated. Instead a ominous silhouette creeps closer and closer to her unknowing frame until it is too late.

'Found you, Simmons...'

* * *

><p>The impressive front side of her high school comes into view as she moves towards it on her bike. She parks next to the bushes that surround the walls on both sides of the double doors of the school building. She never knew why those were placed there. People only threw trash on top and underneath them. People can be such uncivilized pigs in that regard. She climbs the two steps and lets herself in. She school is almost abandoned. Not even one of the three janitors are sitting behind the little window of their reception box. The Mission Impossible theme is coming from the headphones on her head which makes the situation all the more amusing to her. Soon she finds herself at her destination on the second floor where her partner in crime is already waiting for her. He opens the door and together they enter the chemistry classroom where her target will be teaching when the bell rings.<p>

'Thanks for helping me. I didn't know you had keys to this classroom.' Fitz mentions to the Asian boy next to her. He shrugs and replies 'Hehe, yeah. They accidentally gave me an universal key for my locker this year. It fits on every lock in the school.' Flashing him an impressed expression. They unpack their equipment.

'Well, let's leave Mr Physics a little something then. ' Fitz says with a sly smile as she holds up a little box of what appear to be bonbons. They set everything in place and then quickly leave the classroom again, locking it. 'I hope you like red pepper.' She thinks as her view on the fancy decorated chocolate brown box is cut off.

The three toned bell rings, signaling the ending of one hour and the beginning of yet an other. Much to Fitz's amazement the bell actually never stops ringing. It rings every 50 minutes without fail day in day out, even on weekends. Why, she has yet to find out. The bolt on the door makes an audible click as the door is unlocked and Robert Truman walks into the classroom followed by a steam of students. The physics teacher curiously eyes the box of chocolates placed on his desk as he unpacks his things, wondering who might have placed it there.

This particular physics teacher is not very loved among students due to obvious reasons; he rules with injustice, something that might induce dislike in any human being. This quality was not lost in Fitz. Oh, how she disliked this man with a passion as red as the roses she once saw in this rose garden. Therefore she orchestrated this prank.

The class progresses as usual. The same routine as always, that is until the teacher finally directs his full attention to the box of bonbons. He drags the box across the table until is rests directly in front of him. That's when he notices a small folded piece of paper is attached to the side;

Dear Mr Truman,

We have not always gotten along well in the past. Since this is my last year here I want to make amends. I hope that this little gift is well received.

- Fitz

The physics teacher looks semi-impressed, and lays down the note in favor of peeking inside the bonbon box. They look well crafted with little swirl designs on the tops. He picks up a bonbon and pops it in his mouth, savoring the creamy chocolate texture. His bliss was quickly and brutally ended with the first taste of wildfire, though.

* * *

><p>If everything went according to plan her target should have ingested the bait now. Oh, she wished she could have seen his face as the red pepper she collected from instant noodle packs spread around his mouth. How delightful a sight it would have been. Tempting as it was, she would rather not place herself in the same room as her physics teacher rage at that time. He already had a short fuse. Add 10 grams of spiciness to that and you would create a nuclear bomb. Not that she regretted it. The ass deserved it for all the times he unfairly passed judgment on the innocent. People like that are less than favorable in her book.<p>

Then the double doors swung open and lo' and behold, there in the opening stood a very flustered, pissed off physics teacher. His face was the color of a tomato and for some reason the top of his blouse was wet. Probably from hanging underneath the tab to distinguish the fire in his mouth. How amusing. He didn't look happy in the least, his gaze directly pointed on me. If looks could kill I'd be six feet under.

As the feeble turtle duck I am I did the only thing I could do with my small and weak physique; run, the enraged teacher hot on my heels. Such obscenities he shouted at me. It'd be best if I did not repeat them. I ran and ran, hurriedly typing a text message to my accomplice,

Bram, ready the Cher Ami.

- Fz

and hurriedly pressed "send". Running was never really her strong forte, or any physical activity for that matter. It just didn't suit her. Luckily for her Mr Truman wasn't any better off. He was huffing and puffing while losing speed, her young body having the upper hand in the race. Even though he was almost spend he continued his pursuit, probably fueled by his anger. I think that by now we've seen the entire school and as we passed various classrooms some heads poked out the door openings when we passed them like a fright train. My light footsteps coupled with his heavier ones made the ground vibrate where we went. My heart was pounding in my chest, almost threatening to explode from my chest. My endurance is truly quite horrible.

After who knows how long I pressed speed dial to ask Bram about the current situation on the Cher Ami. The phone rang and Bram answered the call much to my relief. I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. Being chased certainly gives one a thrill, though.

'Is it ready yet?' She speaks into the mobile device. 'Almost!' , followed by a thud and some static. Fitz hears some cursing on the other side and ends the call. She can only hope that her accomplice will finish the job in time if they both want to escape unscathed. She turns a corner and places her back flat against the wall catching her breath a little. Strange enough the physics teacher didn't run past her like she anticipated. Instead a ominous silhouette creeps closer and closer to her unknowing frame until it is too late.

'Found you, Simmons...'

Quickly she turns her head in the direction of the voice to be met with the sight of the enraged man. His eyes seem to be bulging out of their sockets, bloodshot and filled with rage. 'Hello, Mr Truman. You are looking a bit..,' Searching for the right words to describe his current appearance, 'Red in the face...' she finishes. This earned her a nice string of insults to the face from the man in question. Hoping that her accomplice was ready she makes a run to the backdoor, swinging it open.

The crisp spring air causes a shiver to run down her spine as she sprints down the schoolyard, if it can be called that. It's technically just a place to park bikes and scooters. The physics teacher is like ten Meters behind her. Only a few more meters until she reaches Bram and the Cher Ami.

'Ready?!' she shouts to her partner in crime, who gives an affirmative 'Yes!' in return. Trusting that he did his job well I approach the side of the river, not slowing down in my sprint. Luckily everything is already loaded inside. With the grace of a flailing sea cow I jump into the small rubber boat and together we hastily push off from the shore with our peddles. The physics teacher who has reached the shore by now looks at us dumbfounded, but he recovers quickly enough with a string of curse words. All the while we are peddling further away from the shore like our lives depended on it. Mission successful.

* * *

><p>'I'm really glad that I finally got back at him. He has been an asshole from day one. Always so demeaning towards everybody. Purposely giving low grades and his 'holier than thou' attitude. ' Fitz is laying on the soft grass along with Bram. The Cher Ami is resting on the grass next to them. Bram nods in agreement. 'I'm glad you got the boat ready in time, hehe.' She laughs. It truly was a golden escape. 'I'm glad to have been of help. I hated the guy too. He got what he deserved.'<p>

Fitz sighs. Today was almost too much. She's not sure if her body can handle an other adrenaline rush like that. The pounding of her heart, threatening to spill out. In the movies and such they always make it out to be so awesome, but the reality is slightly different. It's more like the feeling of sheer terror that is pulsing through your body. Exhilarating, yes. Pleasant? Not so much in her opinion. She prefers not having a continues heart attack for a prolonger amount of time, but that is just her opinion.

'Well, we better get going. More exams tomorrow after all.' Bram says as he gets up from the ground, dusting off his trousers. Can't argue with his logic. 'Agreed.' Together we deflate the Cher Ami and roll it up in a easy to hold giant rubber sushi roll. 'See ya around, Fitz.' Bram gives a two fingered salute and parts ways with her.

* * *

><p>Her room is rather big compared to the other rooms in the house. Light is coming from the second floor. Fitz is sitting behind her desk looking at the page of a black notebook. On the page are written a list of names. With a satisfied smirk she crosses out the name "Mr Physics". One down, only three more to go. Yes, today was a good day.<p> 


	3. Chapter Two - But it couldn't be right

**Chapter Two; But it couldn't be right. **

We were around the same age, only three years apart. How silly he could act at times, how infuriating his behavior could be indeed. Nonetheless, I loved him. Conner Flannery, the intern at my high school and the source of controversy in my life, for a student may not have a relationship with a teacher. Loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction.

* * *

><p>We were both against a relationship, even though we were both undeniably in love with each other. Instead we settled for the next best thing we could effort in public; friends. Best friends at that, but with no real friend zone to speak of. We both left that one a while ago when his soft lips met mine in an abandoned corridor of the school building. It was past five and everybody had already left, save for the janitors of course. They are the ones that close down the building everyday. Today the kind janitor was on duty.<p>

He pulled away from me slowly, probably debating whether he made a huge mistake or not. I thought about kissing him back, but I hugged him instead. I don't know why I did that, it just felt right at the time. A comforting gesture of "It's ok." Both for him and for me.

'Can't you think of a better place to kiss a girl, hm?' I murmured in his chest. He's a tall man, allowing me, who is rather short, to rest my head on his chest comfortably. This earned me a nervous chuckle which I returned in full with one of my own. They say that people only chuckle in sappy fanfiction stories, but I beg the differ. How else would one describe the half hearted laugh that comes out of one's throat? The tension dissipated sufficiently to make both of us comfortable again, like the kiss never happened. But it did, and we both knew it. The real question was if we should leave it at that or not? The brain said yes, but the heart passionately whispered "no".


	4. Chapter Three - Dr France

**Chapter Three; Dr. France **

The voice of Skyradio's anchor man bounds off the blue walls of Fitz's bedroom. It's seven in the morning and with a groan she curls up some more in her oh so comfortable bed. The central biology exams start in about an hour and within that time she must have her gluteus maximus firmly placed in a chair in the designated classroom. She doesn't want a repeat of last year when she was late for her chemistry exam because she misread the time on when it started, causing her to stumble into the classroom forty-five minutes late with disheveled hair, clutching a BINAS in one hand, and a pen in the other. That was an experience she could do without.

After listening to what the anchor man had to report on today's news she hit the snooze button. This repeated itself an other three times until it was getting dangerously late. She truly is a procrastinator at heart. Landing most ungracefully on her side she rolls out of bed, Literally rolls, and gets up from the unforgiving ground in only her undergarments. Pants are so overrated anyway.

* * *

><p>Luckily central exams are in May when the weather is a bit more forgiving with it's temperature. The wind still bites at her exposed face and hands, though. In a matter of minutes she arrives at her destination; the Saint Gregorius College. She is still relatively early and the place looks abandoned save for a few bikes scattered across the parking spaces. Parking your bike is always a hassle here. There are just too many people. Choosing a tactical spot near the edge of a stall she's confident that there is only ten percent chance that some idiots will force their bikes against her own in an inescapable death lock, which regrettably has often been the case. Then again, she has been found guilty of doing the same thing when she was in a hurry and there was so convenient spot available.<p>

Unlike the school grounds outside, the inside sports at least some human life in the canteen. Groups of students are huddled together revising biology and something that appears to be social studies. She doesn't feel like joining any of them at the moment. Instead she finds a quiet corner to browse through the biology section of her nerd bible, the BINAS, which is referred to as the handbook for the natural sciences and mathematics. There isn't much time left until the exams starts, socializing can wait until after. Luckily she hasn't seen Mr Truman yet.

* * *

><p>Her next plan will soon kick off with everything properly set up. By now it's in the afternoon and the sun struggles beneath a thin layer of clouds, Reflecting a meek golden glow from the wet remains of snow alongside the roads and the untouched patches of white on the strips of grass. Her next target: Miranda Sinclair, befittingly dubbed Dr. France. A woman in her forties who has a PhD in the French language. Who gets a PhD in French? Not that it particularly bothers Fitz, no, it's the constant talk of how French is the best damn thing in the known universe and how she, Fitz, is stupid for not getting how to properly speak and write it. Her brain is just not configured for the language of love. Her pronunciation is horrible at best. The real reason that Mrs Sinclair's name ended up on the list, though, is because she is always rude and condescending, even to this day. Fitz ain't having anything of that anymore. So when the blond wench opened her air hole again to bitch about some random thing the decision was quickly made. She was already a possible candidate, but with that last comment of "you are a hopeless case anyway" a few weeks ago she dug her own grave, theoretically speaking.<p>

With the help of Bart she got access to the French teacher's classroom and began preparations. With tape a party horn was fastened underneath the blonde's chair so when she sat down the added weight will cause the chair to come down hard enough to unleash a deafening sound. And the great thing was that even if she got up again the horn would keep gushing compressed air until nothing is left. That is bound to cause some commotion and give the students a good laugh.

* * *

><p>Even though she was prepared for the sound, her head still perked up in surprise upon hearing the horn echoing through the classroom and beyond. A smile tugged at her lips and since there was no one to see her anyway she allowed it to lift the corners of her mouth in a mischievous smirk. Oh, how she loved the terror stricken face of the one who diminished her, and many others so many times, when she jumped up from her chair, frantically looking for the source until her eyes landed on her chair. Fitz didn't want to get noticed even though the doctor had other things on her mind right now, so she made her way back to her bike with a content smile. The horrified expression of Miranda Sinclair still fresh in her mind.<p> 


End file.
